The Routledge Companion to Remix Studies
London South Bank University (UK)
Co-editors Eduardo Navas, Owen Gallagher and xtine burrough describe remix studies as “the result of a long process of rich cultural production directly informed by computing technology” (1), a study area that has developed from 1990s remix culture that can be linked to internet and copyright activism. In a nutshell, the remix is “based on the act of using preexisting materials to create something new as desired by any creator––from amateurs to professionals” (1). As such, remix culture can be understood as a set of cultural practices that depend on the reproduction and subsequent recontextualisation of images, sound and text. In particular, in the era of digital cloning and subsequent morphing of existing, authored materials, the legal aspects of private copyright ownership versus the populist idea of shared communal goods has created a space of complex cultural conflict that provides a rich set of starting points for critical debate.
“Remix”, as a word, came into existence in relation to a musical practice that developed during the emergence of underground disco and hip-hop cultures in New York during the 1970s, when three-minute songs were not lasting long enough to engage dancers, who gave preference to rhythm sections over melody. Although the role of the DJ has shifted over the years, at that time DJs could be regarded as performers who used mass-produced consumer items, in this case music recordings, as narrative elements to produce a unique dialogue with dancers. In response to the need for strong danceable grooves, hip-hop DJs extended rhythmical break sections of pop records by interchanging two identical vinyl recordings between two turntables. Meanwhile, for the disco dance floor, some DJs would overlay instrumental recordings with a cappella vocals to produce a new “third record” (Rietveld 2011), currently understood as a “mash-up”. Since the mid-70s, professional club DJs began to adopt the role of remixer, extending and restructuring three-minute pop recordings into lengthy dance mixes in the recording studio, and producing special versions on reel-to-reel tape and 12-inch vinyl discs. Blurring the distinctions between music makers and music consumers, it was often via their experience as remixers that DJs turned into music producers.
In a parallel world, in the context of Jamaican reggae, dub emerged as a type of remix practice. When multi-track tape became available at the end of the 1960s, generic bass and drum tracks were produced that could be dubbed over by different singers, thereby keeping recording costs low. The practice of the dub was extended, however, when in the early 1970s sound engineers produced dub mixes for specific sound systems on unique acetate cuts, or dub plates, to compete for dance crowds; most functioned as backing for the “toasts” (a type of rap) of the DJ (the MC). Versioning and the echoic dub aesthetic became intertwined within this particular remix practice, eventually influencing dance producers in the post-disco scene.
Such recombinant processes have cross-fertilised across genres, especially within various forms of electronic dance music. The emergence of affordable digital samplers during the mid-1980s helped to enhance the music remix. Cutting and restructuring had so far been achieved by hand during the DJ set with vinyl records, and in the studio through splicing tape or by dubbing over multi-track recordings. Although the early samplers offered an audibly low sample rate, resulting in deterioration or loss of sound quality, and recording only small snippets of audio, here we can identify a beginning of digital “copy and paste” culture. During the early 1990s, this resulted in a number of legal test cases, in particular in the US against hip-hop recordings, and intense debate emerged regarding authorship, authenticity and the notion of shared cultural goods.
Although the word “remix” as well as the specific customization of sound recordings is rooted in the genealogy of electronic dance music, cultural practices that re-contextualize ready-mades can be found elsewhere, not least in the early 20th century avant-garde. Before the Second World War, collage techniques, photographic trickery and film editing were pushed to the edge of surrealism in Europe. In other political realms, photographic images were altered to suit the propaganda machines of repressive state regimes. Cut-up art practices continued in literature, as some writers tried cutting up text to create unexpected meanings, and during the 1960s visual pop artists spliced up everyday popular imagery. In other words, the remix is not necessarily tied to digitalized creative practices or to the realm of musical production techniques.
Within remix studies as described in the collection under review, however, the aim is to investigate the aesthetic, ethical and political potential of digital media in particular. Within its 41 chapters, covering 515 pages, the scope of subjects in this reader is therefore wide. In terms of the remix in music, Kembrew McLeod makes a contribution on the history of sampling in the form of a collage of his interview material with music artists, as does Roy Christopher with a focus on musical memory in the digital age. Also of direct interest to the readership of Dancecult is an essay by Nate Harrison, by now famous for a viral YouTube video in which he explains the origin of the “Amen Break”, a museme that is significant in electronic dance music genres based on breakbeats, such as electro and jungle; here Harrison traces the way in which his version of this narrative started out as an arts installation, and how its online video version was subsequently adopted, and even plagiarized, in unexpected ways.
Although it is not made explicit by the editors, the broad subject matter of this collection of essays demonstrates how music can effectively be used as a mode of cultural and conceptual analysis. A similar point is made by dub theorist Michael E. Veale (2007), with reference to the work of Paul Gilroy and other authors in the realm of black identity politics and music. And Henriques (2011) shows in the context of reggae sound systems that music is “a way of knowing”, an idea that is partially inspired by Attali (1985), who regards noise as prophetic, heralding future social structures. From here, it may be possible to argue that the versioning and remix practices employed by dance DJs and remixers are echoed back and forth within current flows of remix culture, making this collection of essays in remix studies extended versions of what could, arguably, be understood as being part of the “dub diaspora”.
Attali, Jacques. 1985. Noise: The Political Economy of Music. Manchester: Manchester University Press.
Henriques, Julian. 2011. Sonic Bodies: Reggae Sound Systems, Performance Techniques, and Ways of Knowing. London: Bloomsbury.
Rietveld, Hillegonda C. 2011. “Disco’s Revenge: House Music’s Nomadic Memory”. Dancecult: Journal of Electronic Dance Music Culture 2(1): 4–23. <http://dx.doi.org/10.12801/1947-5403.2011.02.01.01>.
Veale, Michael E. 2007. Dub: Soundscapes and Shattered Songs in Jamaican Reggae. Middletown CT: Wesleyan University Press.